“There are places one returns to as if returning to home.” Thus begins a sweet little montage of photos from the school in Poland in which I taught for seven years. Images of life in the school are interspersed with youthful sentimentality.
I know few of the students, but they’re all familiar: all Polish students become familiar at a certain point. There’s just a look about them. K and I see a woman walking down the street here in Greenville and almost simultaneously say, “She looks like a Pole.”
The halls, the classrooms — all so warm and familiar.
The text belies the author: a young graduate, somewhat longing for the simplicity of high school:
“There are people whom one never forgets,” followed by images of teachers I worked with, one of whom was a student when I first arrived in 1996.
“These people will always been in our hearts.” Sentimentality is excusable when one is young. It should probably be so when one is old, as well.
“There are moments which we will always remember.” They pile up, though, and act like a sieve: things we thought we’d never forget, never get over, sift to the bottom and are all but forgotten about. This young film maker probably hasn’t realized that yet. Maybe he/she will never have to.
The final words: “All of this is in one place, and that’s here.” Cut to an elevated image of the school, and a smile on my face.
I wrote a quick note to the YouTube user who posted it: “I taught at that school for seven years — I appreciate your video. You have at least one picture in the video of students I taught.” No response.
Still, I watch the video from time to time, and it always makes me smile and read my journal from my time in Poland.
Now who’s being sentimental?